


A Not-So-Lonely Holiday

by mydeira



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alone at Christmastime, isn’t that why alcohol exists?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Not-So-Lonely Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Written for glossing in the drunk!Giles ficathon on LiveJournal in December of 2004 who requested Michael paired with love and passion with Giles; Saturnalia rite; smut and/or discussion of the Highland Clearances’ effects on whiskey production. Also no unearned schmoop, Willow or Ethan. Well, I got Michael and Giles in the same story. Hope you enjoy.

Alone at Christmas.  It really wasn’t something new to Giles.  But for the first time in countless years there were neither apocalypses nor evil forces stirring on the horizon to distract him.  The quiet was a disconcerting but nice change of pace.

 

He had lost touch with his family over the years and had no desire to seek them out over the holidays.  As for his makeshift family from Sunnydale, they were so spread out around the globe that even getting in touch for business matters was difficult.

 

But there were worse ways to celebrate the day than tossing back a few pints at pub down the street before heading home to a new bottle of 12 year old single malt.  The anonymous note included with the gift made him glance almost hopefully up at the pub door every time the bell jangled.  That if anything was a clear indication of his current state of mind and sobriety if he was looking forward to such a visit with anything but dread and an overwhelming sense of “here we go again.”  Waking up as a Fyarl should have taught him a lesson, but some habits were impossible to break.

 

The bell jangled and he looked up for the dozenth time that hour.  No, no one he—Giles looked closer at the tall, dark young man who came through the door.  Vaguely familiar.  He looked about Buffy’s age, perhaps he’d been a former classmate.  Probably had checked out and never returned some books.

 

But before he could figure out anything concrete, the young man’s face lit up with recognition and he headed over.

 

“Mr. Giles?” he asked happily.

 

No, still nothing.

 

“I know you probably don’t remember me, but it’s just great to see a familiar face from back home.  Even if it has been a few years.”

 

Well, at least he’d been right about the Sunnydale connection.

 

The young man was still talking.  “I always wanted to meet you.  Willow really spoke highly of you.  And you did have the best collection of mystical texts around, especially for a high school library.”

 

“You knew Willow?” Giles finally spoke.

 

“Not real well,” his companion clarified.  “But she and I and Amy Madison hung out for awhile during senior year.”

 

And then it hit him with flash of Joyce and M.O.O. and fire and his books being taken . . . What was the boy’s name?  It started with an “M.”  Matthew?  Mark?  Mathias?  Oh dear lord no.  Mitch?

 

“Michael?”

 

“You do know who I am!” Michael seemed far too exited over such a simple thing.

 

Hardly.  Just a shadow really.  But some company was better than no company.

 

“May I buy you a pint?”

 

“Scotch if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.  Never cared much for the taste of beer.”

 

Michael at least seemed to have some taste.  Things could certainly be a lot worse.

 

So Giles called over the bartender and ordered up a double.  The scotch at home would keep.  Besides, no one should be alone at Christmas.


End file.
